A Waist is a terrible thing to Mind
by Fancy-Hart
Summary: A few of you liked my S/H multi-chapter work. This is Mirandy (AU) Trigger warning for eating disorders. I am not in anyway versed in the world of eating disorders. I am trying my best, if I offend/leave out etc. Please tell me, do not be afraid to say I have done something wrong. I am writing for understanding not just the art.
1. Chapter 1

A Waist is a Terrible thing to Mind

Long slim fingers caressed the white lettered tiles. Drops of salted water splashed, before quickly drying on the expanse of metal. The owner of hands ignored the fallen water, but reached up to her cheeks to wipe her tears. Once she returned her hands to the keyboard, she began to type;

_I am reluctant to share my story, I am reluctant to call it my story It is my point of view of a story, a battle that someone else has had to fight. Like a father in the delivery room, I wipe the brow of the soldier and do all I can do to help, but it is not my fight. Not my story. None the less it has been difficult journey. Not as difficult nor the same as my wife's but it is my own and it is the only story I can tell you._

_My wife is sick. I know that it's not her fault she has this illness. But living with her illness breaks my heart in two. She and I have been married for 10 years. We have 2 children and a dog that looks and eats like a small horse. _

_My wife is the most amazing person I've ever met. Her specialties include making the best roast cookies in the state, and her homemade ravioli is to die for. She's so much more than her illness; I have tried my best to understand her disease, but a lot of the time, it's beyond my comprehension._

_My wife claims she is ugly disagree, she is beautiful._

_I feel so alone with my pain. This isn't right. And it isn't fair._

_She should be OK._

_But she isn't._

_So in the meantime, I must somehow find a way to better support her and love her and let her know how important she is to me. _

_Anorexia will not take my Miranda from me. _

Andrea moved the cursor and clicked post. She turned the screen on the Mac off and rested her head in her hands upon the desk. She wouldn't allow Miranda to know just how badly this was affecting her, he had to be the strong one. She had found the open forum online for this purpose, to talk about how she felt, how she was coping. To allow herself to be selfish when Miranda needed her to be selfless.

She got up from the chair, moved to the door for the study, flipped the switch off and proceeded to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Sunlight streamed through slightly parted curtains in their bedroom window. It bounced off the door on the mirrored wardrobe and cause a stray sliver of light to cast itself over the eye's of the bed's sleeping member. Andrea shifted, still the sunlight seemed to follow her. After five minutes she reluctantly attempted to open her eyes and slid her arm up and down the vacant side of the bed that should have held her wife. She sighed. She knew exactly where Miranda was.

Andy had been up, gotten a shower, made the bed and dressed and still she had not seen Miranda, the girls had been woken, fed and sent to school. Andy proceeded downstairs to the second floor, along the long corridor and into the gym.

"Hi" she smiled at her wife

"H-hey" Miranda didn't stop, continuing to run on the machine, she was sweaty and her cheeks held a pinker tone than normal but she paid no mind.

"Almost done sweetheart?"

"Just another mile to go" smiled Miranda before turning back to look at the computer on the machine

"Honey-"

"Another mile and I will be up"

Andrea decided not to push it and gave in to her wife. She placed her hand on the older woman's wrist, which caused her to look back at Andy.

"I love you"

"I love you too, I will be up soon."

Upon entering the kitchen Andrea decided she would make breakfast for them both. She retrieved everything she needed from the cupboards and set about cooking. It was 40 minutes before Miranda entered, showered, dried and made up for the day.

"I made breakfast"

"Thank you love, but I am not that hungry - I'll have a big lunch okay?"

"Miranda"

Miranda sighed and sat at the table. She poured a large coffee as Andrea placed an omelette and rasher on her wife's plate. Miranda ignored the plate and reached over to the fruit bowl, where she chose a grapefruit that she proceeded to cut into segments. Andrea said nothing, but watched as the older woman mentally calculated and divided, calories, sugars per segment.

"Mir-" The shrill noise of the telephone interrupted Andrea.

"Sorry darling, I have to get that" Andrea nodded sadly "Lara!" Andrea recognized the name as one of the designers Miranda was currently trying to woo. She remained sitting at the table, letting snippets of her wife's conversation flow in and surround her. She ate in silence. After a few minutes Miranda rushed into the kitchen, she leant over and kissed Andrea's head.

"I have to go - major disaster. I'll be home as early as I can love, have a good day!" Andrea heard the door slam behind the white haired woman.

The untouched omelette bacon and grapefruit seemed to mock Andrea as she began to tidy the dishes.


	3. Chapter 3

Miranda sighed as the front door closed behind her. She put her handbag and coat on the chair next to the drawers and entered the kitchen.

As she rounded the corner there came a chorus of "Mum!"

"Darlings!" Miranda opened her arms and was nearly bowled over by two blurs of ginger. After a quick hug, she moved to Andrea who was at the head of the table and kissed her "Hello love"

"Hey babe, how was your day?"

"argh, don't get me started, between Irv and _jacquliene_."

Andrea laughed "well your at home now, just relax and have dinner with your family" she passed Miranda her plate, both women smiling as they're fingers brushed.

"Girls, why don't you tell me about your day?"

And so the rest of the dinner was soaked in waves of noise and laughter. Throughout the dinner Andrea watched her wife move. She was animated and elegant. She was far too thin - which meant she was too fat for Runway. She watched her daughters as they ate their dinner, shovelling mouthfuls between excited words. And she watched her wife push the food around her plate - hiding meat under potatoes and scraping sauces ff vegetables, she coughed loudly to gain Miranda's attention. The older woman stilled but did not look in Andrea's direction.

At the end of dinner the girls said goodnight and headed to bed. Miranda lent back in her chair with a satisfying stretch before getting up to clear the dishes. "Sit down Miranda"

"Not now love, I'll wash and you dry and we can hav-"

"Sit down"

"Andrea, what has gotten-"

"I said sit down!" Miranda was shocked, but she obeyed. She watched Andrea get up from the table and retrieve Miranda's dinner.

"Eat it"

"Don't be absurd Andrea, it is cold and I am full."

"Eat it"

"Andrea I said no, now stop being so insolent." Miranda went o stand up again but Andrea blocked her from turning. She put the food on the fork and held it to the editor's lips.

"Eat it"

Miranda tsked and made to turn from Andrea and leave the chair from the other side. Before she could react Andrea had her hand under her jaw and with one hand was trying to force it open. Her other hand was still holding the full fork. Miranda's eyes flashed with fear. "eat it! fucking eat it!"

Miranda pushed Andrea back and the younger woman lost her footing as she stumbled back a few steps, dropping the fork and its contents to the floor. Miranda's horrified face was stilled in shock, the two women breathed heavily as they stared each other down. Miranda got up from the table and exited the room, as she made her way up the stairs, she pretended not to hear her wife crying as she scraped the remains of yet another uneaten dinner into the bin. She pretended the rumble of her stomach was gas, and not hunger pains from having eaten nothing in two days.


	4. Chapter 4

Andrea had a love hate relationship with these banquet evenings. The stunning dresses that brought out the colour of her wife's eyes and made them shine like stars, also highlighted the ribs that had nothing but paper masquerading as skin covering them. The one time Miranda finally got even close to enough calories was because she had at least 50 people watching her- and once they had stopped the calories would have to be expelled; one way or another.

She continued to walk around the room, nodding in recognition to those she had known whilst in RUNWAY and those she had met since. She turned as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you ready to leave darling?" before she could answer, there was a voice to her left,

"You can't leave before the dinner Miranda"

"And why not?" she drawled

"Sweetheart" began Andrea "I think we should stay - at least until the end of dinner, then we can go. okay?"

"Hmm" Miranda reluctantly agreed.

Ten minutes later, when the bell rang everyone sat to dinner. Andrea was placed beside her wife, with Emily to other side of her.

The first course served was toast with duck pate and side of fresh garden salad. It was delicious. Andrea pretended not to watch as her wife scraped the pate off the toast and hid it under the lettuce, or how she proceeded to eat only the vegetables from atop said salad.

The main course served was a traditional Sunday dinner. With herb stuffing chicken and mash potato with vegetable and gravy. Again Miranda hid as much of the chicken under her mash as possible. Before discreetly placing items of food into her napkin, and placing it into her handbag.

The final course was a trio of mini deserts, a chocolate caramel fondant, a black forest gateau and a white chocolate and raspberry meringue. Once the final course was over, and the bread and cheese platters were distributed among the tables, Miranda wiped her mouth and excused herself for the bathroom. Being that the dinner was in the Elias Clarke building, the white haired woman made her way up to her office in order to use her own private bathroom.

Andrea waited for her wife to enter the lift, counted to thirty and then excused herself. She followed the same path her wife had taken just moments before. Once the doors to the lift have closed she dug in her handbag, she found a bobble and tied her hair back. She then took out breathe freshener, chewing gum, tissues and a travel sized version of Miranda's perfume and lipstick. The lift doors pinged open and she began the long clack to her wife's office. She entered the office, placing her shrug and handbag on the chair in the middle of the room, and moved behind the desk to the entrance of the personal bathroom. She watched in the sliver of the open doorway, as the beautiful white haired creature sat on the toilet seat. She removed heavy jewellery, her shawl and shoes, before climbing on to the scales. From the drop her shoulders and the quiet sigh - she did not like what she saw. Andrea knew what came next, knew she shouldn't watch - but she found her feet to be firmly planted, she was unable to move. Miranda slowly pulled the soft silk material of her dress to her knees, and proceeded to kneel as though the white porcelain fixture in front of her was a priest, and she a good catholic woman. She lifted the lid, and using toilet roll she gave the seat a wipe. She knelt her left elbow on the seat and lay her cheek in it. She stilled for a moment as if to gain some courage, before her right hand disappeared. Andrea closed her eyes as the retching echoed off the walls of the bathroom and replayed themselves in her head, gaining volume as she waited. Finally it was over. Miranda flushed the toilet and closed the lid. She lay slumped over it as her shoulders began to shake, Andrea opened the door just as the shakes turn to sobs.

"honey?"

Miranda jumped, and turned to see her wife. In an effort to hide her transgressions, she made to get up, and wiped her face with her arm.

"Don't love - don't"

Miranda nodded silently and moved so she was sitting with her knees to her chest. She looked so small, so helpless. Andrea moved forward and knelt beside her, she kissed the editor on the cheek end silently helped her to sit on the toilet seat. She retrieved the glass from beside the sink and filled it with water, her wife took it from her before swirling the water in her mouth and turning to spit it out, she turned back o Andrea.

"Open up" Miranda silently obeyed. Andrea sprayed the breath freshener in her mouth, and placed a piece of chewing gum on the older woman's tongue. As she lifted her hand away, Miranda grabbed it and brought it to her mouth, where she kissed it, she then used it to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes as the tears fell silently. The two women sat like this for a few minutes, Andrea kissing Miranda until the tears finally slowed. Miranda kept her eyes closed as Andrea proceeded to fix her makeup. When her wife was done Miranda opened her eyes and gave a weak smile.

"All done" said Andrea as she put the makeup by the sink. "You look good as new". Miranda stood and guided Andrea to the seat, she delved into one of the drawers and found hairbrush. She took the bobble out of Andreas hair and brushed it for her. Andrea leant back towards her wife as the soothing repetition bean to lull her to sleep. Miranda took the opportunity to bend down and kiss her young wife on the cheek, the neck, then the bosom. Andrea reacted violently, suddenly she was pissed. This was not a romantic setting, this was not a time for two lovers to frolic in the bathroom. This was a time to show her wife what it meant to be alive. What she could- would lose. Andrea reached around with her hand to pull her wife closer. She grabbed Miranda's neck and pulled her back so her mouth was in reach. She forced their two mouths together, knowing the two would be bruised. It did not matter. this wasn't about marks or beauty- this was about pain, or lack of it. She would show Miranda. Prove to her. Andrea stood off the toilet, grabbed her wife's two hands and pushed her against the bathroom wall. Miranda gave a noise of discomfort. Andrea did not stop. She was biting and clawing at her wife. This woman would know she would _know_ if it fucking killed her. Andrea refused to live without her, refused to allow this woman to take the most important part of her life away from her. She moved her lips to the editors neck where she began o suck and bite. Miranda moaned, begging Andréa to stop whilst simultaneously pushing the brunette closer to her.

"Andréa- stop" the brunette continues to scratch and claw at any part of her wife she could find, she needed to know this woman was still alive, that there was still something to fight for. She found he wife's breasts and continue to leave heart shaped bruises. Her long nails dragged down Miranda's back. "A-Andrea...darling stop...you're hurting me." The switch flipped, Andrea jumped back from her white haired lover; so hard she pushed her back into the wall. Miranda, sill shoeless, fell to her knees on the ground. She watched her wife intently, she was able to see the moment Andrea came back to earth.

"oh my god I-" Andrea stared at her hands, two nails were broken from the force of the scratches "Oh my g-"

"Andrea" The brunette looked at her wife over her hands, before placing one around her waist and one over her mouth. "Don't, don't" Miranda stood up and made her way to her young wife, who backed away from her. "Andrea?"

"I'm sorry Miranda. I'm sorry I-" The brunette ran. Pausing only to collect her handbag from where she had left it on the way in.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time Miranda had made it to the front door, all that was left of her wife was a cloud of smoke that had ejected itself from the exhaust pipe of the cab she had hailed. Miranda turned back inside to meet with her loyal subjects.

When she returned home it was well past midnight and the whole house was asleep. She closed the door and locked it quietly behind her, before removing her shawl and the stilts she called shoes. She began the slow climb up the flights of stairs to her shared room. She was determined not to awaken her wife, and so slipped into the bathroom that was on the landing, rather than use the ensuite. She had a quick shower, weighed herself and used the bathroom. She would have to use the ensuite in order to brush her teeth. Upon entering the bedroom she discarded her dress and shawl along with her shoes onto the chair in front of her vanity. She leaned over to the large bed two women shared, arms out in order to make contact with her wife-a wife who wasn't there. Upon this realisation, Miranda turned on the main nights in the bedroom and was met with an empty bed. Confused, she turned and left the bedroom and proceeded down the hall to the spare bedroom, where, upon opening the door she found her young wife. Andrea was curled up with her back to the door, Miranda could see the brunettes shoulders shaking as they rose and fell. She switched the lamp on that was beside the door closed circle behind her. Upon realising that her editor wife had entered the room Andrea quickly wiped her eyes and made to sit up. Miranda approached the bed and sat on it facing the young journalist.

"Why aren't you in bed?"

"I am" the brunette answered stubbornly

Miranda sighed "Why aren't you in _our_ bed?"

The brunette mumbled something before dissolving into tears again. Miranda, startled, move forward to hold the younger woman who resisted and made to move out of the way. "Darling" Again Andrea dodged her wife's arms. "Darling, what is it?"

The brunette mumbled into the hand that was over her mouth to stifle her sobs. Miranda was getting frustrated and held the younger woman's arms down on the bed. "I cannot hear you through your fingers."

The brunette sniffed and looked up at the editor "I hit you, I can't sleep in the bed knowing I abused you"

The editor closed her eyes. Damn this girl for being too sentimental. She reached for the brunette who had once again put her hand to her mouth and broken into tears. "Andrea, darling listen..._listen_" She held the crying woman to her chest and hushed her soothingly. "You did not abuse me; I would not stand for it _you_ would not stand for it"

"But I-"

"You got over excited that is all, besides if I remember clearly - our honeymoon left us both with a week of...discomfort" she smirked.

"It is not the same"

"Oh? And why not?"

"I hurt you"

"Yes." Miranda held tighter as the distraught woman fought to leave her grip. "But you stopped when I asked you to. What is the difference between now and our honeymoon? Or last week, when we used the bondages?"

"I wanted to hurt you."

Miranda let go of the younger woman. She wasn't expecting to hear that

"What?"

The brunette was sitting up fully now and was staring at her lap, her hands clenched in frustration, hit the duvet on either side of her legs, and punctuated each syllable of her speech. "I wanted to hurt you; I wanted you to see what you are doing to yourself, to this family, to me. I wanted you to feel something other than hunger, other than the need to be so damn perfect and skinny. Miranda I wanted to know my wife is still _alive!" _Suddenly a flip was switched. Andrea lost control as she screamed and cried and called Miranda every name she could think of. She did not move to touch the startled older woman, but she made damn sure she vent all of the frustrations. "And you know what's even worse? Do you? Do you?!" There was not answer from the editor I'll tell you then! You have two wonderful, _impressionable_ female children who not only see airbrushed twiglets in the magazine, but also watch you eat nothing all day. I cannot cope with my three girls dying of starvation!"

Miranda said nothing, she got up off the bed, kissed Andrea on the forehead, turned the light off and left the bedroom; leaving the younger woman to wonder if she'd just blown her whole family to smithereens.


	6. Chapter 6

Andrea awoke the next day to the smell of bacon, it took her a few fuzzy moments to realise that this was not the norm. As she dressed in her night gown and headed towards the kitchen she could hear giggling, and...was that _Lady Gaga?!. _

Once she entered the kitchen, three pairs of eyes turned to greet her. She had assumed that the older of those set would dismiss here, she certainly deserved it, but to her surprise the white haired woman moved towards her and welcomed her with a morning kiss.

"Hello love" whispered Miranda, to Andrea's slightly confused and questioning gaze, she smiled and kissed the young brunette again in answer. "Come eat with us."

Andrea sat at the chair her wife pulled out and watched with confusion and uncertainty as the three women in front of her dug into bacon and sausage, with a side of frilled tomatoes. That is to say, the twins dug in, Miranda politely cut her meal into pieces and slowly chewed. It was slow and the pieces were small; but Andrea was glad to watch her wife eating. Miranda glances up to see her young wife watching her, she smiled and deliberately placed piece of tomato in her mouth, before winking and turning back to answer the girls who had just asked permission to leave the table.

"Of course dear, the two of you get ready and we'll have Joe take you to your dad's." The girls left with a chorus of "thanks mum!" before two sets of feet pounded up the stairs. The editor turned her full attention back to her wife, who had yet to touch her breakfast.

"Andrea, darling, our food will get cold." Andrea continued to stare. "Darling?"

"You're eating"

Miranda smiled, "Yes love, but you aren't?"

"You're eating bacon"

Miranda sighed, she got out of her chair and walked round to her wife, she pulled out the empty seat and sat in it, taking the young brunette's hands in hers. She looked into her eyes. "Two impressionable young women who have to see twigs in the magazine." was all she said as she picked up one of Andrea's sausages before kissing her in the lips and biting into the sausage. "I have to be off darling, I'll be in the office until five. I love you" and with that she was gone.

Andrea sat at the kitchen table in silence, her mind in a whirl.

"She's eating." Andrea grinned to herself, before digging into her own plate.

Half an hour later, in a small bathroom that was joined to a large office on a high rise building, a white haired editor knelt stood on a set of scales as a lone tear fell to the bathroom floor.

The sound of retching was covered by the running taps.


End file.
